


Adjustments

by SnubbingApollo



Series: Commissions [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Misuse of a throne, Romance, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 10:35:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7798456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnubbingApollo/pseuds/SnubbingApollo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair and Briana Cousland are adjusting reasonably well to their new role as King and Queen of Ferelden. Reasonably.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Clothes and coronations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Redofthewolves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redofthewolves/gifts).



> A commission for redofthewolves who wanted a fic with Alistair and her oc Briana Cousland

Briana watched Alistair with an amused expression as he fidgeted under the tailor’s measuring.

“Enjoying yourself?” he grumbled at her good naturedly.

“Oh, immensely,” Briana chuckled. “Relax, love. It’s only clothes.” Alistair sighed, nodding and attempting to stand still. To make matters worse the Seneschal, a stern old man named Brandon, was still in the room. The man had become Alistair’s least favorite person over the last few days, hounding his steps everywhere and talking about things which were exceedingly boring but just important enough that Alistair couldn’t afford to inore him.

“Then there is the matter of your coronation,” he said, looking over his clipboard. “It should be soon. Within the next week ideally.”

Alistair blinked at him confused, looking over at Briana.

“I assumed it would be after the wedding,” he said. Briana gave him a smile, shaking her head.

“Traditionally the King would be crowned first, then the marriage, and then the Queen’s coronation separately,” she told him. His brow furrowed in confusion.

“That just seems unnecessarily complicated,” he said. “Why wouldn’t we do it together?”

“Well,” the Seneschal said, “A king doesn’t always have an intended when he’s crowned. And it’s more necessary that the King be crowned quickly. The country must have a King and only his wife can be named Queen so naturally that has to wait until the marriage.”

Alistair frowned still looking somewhat uncomfortable at the thought. Briana, bit her lip before turning to the other man.

“What if we changed the order, Brandon?” she asked. He looked at her confused. “We could marry this week and then have both coronations at the same time after.” Brandon blinked rapidly, looking over his papers.

“Well, it’s unusual,” he said. “But I don’t see why not. I’ll get started on the preparations.”

“Thank you Brandon,” Alistair said, giving Briana a relieved smile. “Are you almost done with that?” The tailor was measuring a rather intimate area and seemed to be dragging his feet about it. Alistair looked down at the man with an arched brow and heard Briana chuckle beside him.

“Yes, my Lord,” he said standing. “All finished. If that will be all?”

“I believe so, yes,” Alistair told him as firmly as possible. “Do you have anything else for me, Brandon?”

“Not at the moment, my Lord,” the seneschal said through his own smile, looking like he was struggling to contain his own laughter. “I’ll be on my way.”

Briana collapsed into laughter as soon as the room was empty but for the two of them.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so uncomfortable,” she said, shaking her head. “That was sweet, you know. Wanting us crowned at the same time.” Alistair sighed.

“He wouldn’t say it with you in the room but we both know why they want me crowned first and you to wait. It’s because I’m supposedly more important. As though you hadn’t just got done saving all their lives.”

Briana smiled, cupping his face in her hand.

“See? Sweet,” she told him. Alistair smiled, leaning in to give her a quick kiss. Briana sighed and leaned into him.

“I miss you at night,” Alistair murmured, against her hair. “It’s strange not having you next to me.”

“I know,” Briana told him. “Soon. They’ll want to rush the wedding even more now that you won’t let them crown you before it.” Alistair laughed a little.

“See? My stubbornness is a good thing,” he joked. Briana joined in his laughter shaking her head.

“Not even King yet and you’re already given your advisers all sorts of headaches,” she teased him.

“Well, I have to keep them on their toes,” he said. “Can’t have them getting bored.”

“Oh *no*,” Briana agreed nodding seriously. “Definitely not. Come on, it’s just about time for lunch. We’re meeting one of the Arls remember?” Alistair groaned, but followed her out of the room.

“How is it I’m not even technically in charge and I already have to deal with the politics?” he asked.

“Look at it this way,” Briana told him with a grin. “At least they’re all trying to make you happy.”

Alistair gave an annoyed groan.


	2. Weddings and honors

The days leading up to the wedding were a flurry of activity and Briana and Alistair didn’t actually get to see each other, beyond a few chance meetings hallways. They, of course, had separate rooms at night for propriety’s sake and Briana had informed Alistair firmly, that no, it didn’t matter that they’d already slept together and informing anyone of that would not mitigate the situation.

Still, it was surprisingly difficult to get to sleep without Alistair’s warmth behind her. Even the things she thought it would be a relief to be free from, like his unending snoring, were sorely missed. 

She looked into the mirror adjusting her gown. It was white, with dark blue trim and it suited her well. The seamstress had honestly done a wonderful job. She didn’t know why she was so nervous. She could understand if her fears centered around becoming a queen, after all the meant being entrusted with the care and safety of an entire country of people. But, absurdly, her concerns rested on the wedding itself. Would Alistair find her comely? Would she get all the lines right? What if she tripped in these shoes? It’d been so long since she wore anything but leather boots.

She sighed adjusting the sapphire necklace that lay draped across her throat and chest. This would be fine. She would be fine. There was a knock on the door and she turned to see one of the servants peeking her head in.

“My Lady? The ceremony’s about to start,” the girl said and Briana nodded.

“Alright,” she said gathering herself. “Thank you.”

She followed the girl to the sanctuary of the Chantry, gripping the small bouquet of flowers she’d been given for dear life. The doors swung open and she took a deep breath beginning to walk down the aisle. About four steps in she caught sight of Alistair and her pace nearly faltered. He looked incredible in his red and gold finery, but even that had nothing on his expression. His expression as he looked at her was awed and he looked almost as if he might cry. She felt her own eyes sting with tears and cleared her throat as she walked closer.

Most of the ceremony was a blur. The Chantry Mother spoke of Andraste and sacred unions under the eyes of the Maker and something about fate and those chosen to rule but Briana heard almost none of it. She was too captivated by the man in front of her. Alistair was in a similar state if the way he nearly missed his cue to speak was any indication. Briana tried to contain her chuckles as he stuttered out his vows but her mirth and joy were audible in her voice when she echoed him.

The kiss they shared upon command of the Mother was a bit long and deep to be considered truly proper but in their defense it had been a week. There were many cheers when they parted and Alistair gripped her hands tight enough to hurt. She didn’t mind at all.

Before they had time to truly celebrate, however, they were ushered over to the thrones that had been moved to the Chantry for the coronation. Now that the wedding was over, Briana rediscovered her nervousness about this part of the day.

Alistair of course performed perfectly.

“I swear before the Maker and his Lady, our savior, Andraste to uphold the laws of the Kingdom of Ferelden, to protect its borders and its people, and to carry out the duties and responsibilities of my station justly, and with humility.” His voice was loud and firm, but it still maintained that air of gentleness she loved about him so much. The crown was placed upon his head and the crowd broke into shouts of “Long live the King!”

The Mother turned to Briana and she took a deep breath.

“I swear before the Maker and his Lady, our savior, Andraste to uphold the laws of the Kingdom of Ferelden, to see that its people are treated with compassion and justice and its enemies dealt with swiftly and entirely, and to carry out the duties and responsibilities of my station justly, and with humility,” she said. She could only hope she sounded as proud and firm as Alistair did. The crown the mother laid on her head was surprisingly heavy and she was thankful she wouldn’t have to wear this ceremonial one all the time. The crowd again erupted in cheers this time of long live the queen and when the roar died down the Mother motioned for them both to sit. The crowd began to queue up for the swearing of their fealty and Briana took a deep breath.

“You look so beautiful,” Alistair murmured to her. Briana gave a soft laugh.

“I nearly dropped the flowers when I saw you,” she told him.

“At least you didn’t almost forget your line.” 

“It was cute,” she said with a grin.

“I don’t think the Mother would have thought so if it had taken me much longer to snap out of it.”

That was all they had time to say before the first of the procession reached them and the swearing of the oaths began. It was a long interminable process by which each noble and farmer came up to them to promise their loyalty and sometimes present them with a trinket or a portion of their crop or livestock as a wedding present. They thanked each in turn and accepted the gifts when necessary. It seemed to go on forever and Briana’s neck was truly getting sore from holding up the heavy crown by the time they thanked the last family and they could finally move on.

“Please tell me we’re done now,” Alistair whispered in her ear as they stood. Briana regretfully shook her head.

“Feast,” she reminded him, smiling fondly at his groan. “At least we can trade out these ten pound weights for the circlets.”

“I suppose that’s true,” he said. They were ushered off into separate rooms to change out of their wedding clothes and into their dinner ones. Briana could imagine the complaining Alistair must be treating his manservants to. Sure enough he was still going when she came to sit next to him at the table. They were seated in the center of a long table which sat upon a dais and faced down across the hall and at the two other tables on the lower level. It placed them rather uncomfortably in the center of attention, but she supposed they’d both have to get used to that.

“Are we always going to be expected to change clothes several times a day now?” Alistair asked as soon as she was seated. She laughed a little taking a sip of the wine that was placed in front of her.

“Only on special occasions,” she assured him. He grumbled softly.

“You do look lovely though,” he said. “I’ve always known blue was your color. I’m glad the seamstress agrees.”

“I’m not sure if that’s it, or if they’re trying to constantly remind everyone that I’m 'The Warden.’" She said the title in a mockingly reverent tone. Alistair frowned.

“You saved all their lives,” he said. “Are you really so surprised they’re grateful?” Briana frowned, considering the words.

“I’m not surprised,” she said. “But the attention makes me uncomfortable. I was only doing my duty, fulfilling my oath. Any Warden would have done the same.”

“Perhaps,” Alistair said in a voice that sounded as though he didn’t quite agree. “But any warden didn’t. You did.” Briana sighed and gave a nod.

“I know,” she said on a sigh. She eyed her wine before a large swallow of it. It was going to be a long night.


	3. Thrones and Embraces

Alistair stood over the throne stroking the back of it. It was just a chair. It shouldn’t be so damn intimidating. He sighed, looking out over the darkened room. He’d lost track of how long it’d been since he’d come down from his room, but it was late enough at night that he didn’t have to worry about anyone walking into the throne room to find the king staring at the seat of his power in abject dread, so there was that.

At least he’d thought so. He jumped when he heard one of the side doors for the room open expecting to see a guard or a lost servant. Instead it was Briana still dressed in her light blue sleeping gown. She must have come straight down from their chambers like he had.

“I had a feeling you might be here,” she said softly, crossing the space between them and resting a hand on his shoulder. “It’s only a chair, Alistair.”

“Except it isn’t, is it?” he asked contradicting his earlier thoughts. “It’s where I sit when I make decisions about an entire country. All those people depending on me…” he trailed off, looking up at her, brow furrowed in fear. “What I make the wrong choice? Briana, last year the most important thing I did all day was decide what to eat for lunch.”

Briana cupped his cheek in her hand, stroking gently and he leaned into the comforting touch.

“You’re not alone, Love,” she murmured.

“For the first time, I think I finally understand what it was like for you. All of us looking to you, expecting you to make everything right. To make the world make sense. How did you do it?”

“I did my best, and I tried not to run for the hills and believe me there were times I wanted to. No one is saying you can’t be scared, Alistair. I’d be more worried for you if you weren’t. But you don’t have to do this by yourself. I’m here. We’ll tackle it together, alright? After a giant corrupted dragon and a horde of darkspawn how much trouble can the Orlesians really be?”

Alistair laughed, leaning into her hold.

“Don’t say things like that, they might take it as a challenge,” he joked. He grew serious after a moment, running a hand through her hair gently. “Thank you.”

“It’s what I’m here for,” Briana said, smiling up at him. “You can always come to me when you’re doubting yourself. I’ll set you to rights.” She looked down at the throne with a considering expression.

“Oh, no,” Alistair said with good natured dread. “I know that look.”

“I was just thinking,” Briana said with a smirk. “What we need, is to give you some positive associations.” Alistair arched a cautious eyebrow.

“Like what?” he asked slowly. Briana grinned.

“Sit down,” she said moving away from him so he’d have room to get to the front of the chair. Alistair eyed her with blatant suspicion but did as he was told. Her grin widened and she knelt in front of him, reaching up for his pants in a fluid movement.

“Are you mad?!” Alistair choked out in a whisper, catching her hands and looking up at the main entrance wildly, as though the guards would burst in at any moment.

“Relax,” Briana said with a chuckle. “It’s middle of the night and this room isn’t a thoroughfare. The guards will stay outside so long as you’re quiet.”

“You have had sex with me before right?” Alistair asked. “I’m pretty sure you have, I was there. Being very much not quiet.” Briana laughed.

“Consider it a challenge,” she said.

“You _are_ mad,” Alistair informed her, but he released her hands, biting his lip and leaning back against the throne. Briana chuckled, working quickly to free his cock. She was mostly sure no one would come in, but it would be better to do this quickly, just in case. She smirked up at him, licking along the underside as he started to harden. He gave a muffled gasp, biting into his fist to keep himself from moaning. Briana gave another muffled chuckle before taking him into her mouth.

Alistair arched hard, groaning as quietly as he could. He looked down at her with wide pleasure glazed eyes and nearly thrust up in an entirely ungentlemanly way when he saw her looking back up at him.

“Andraste’s flaming _tits_ ,” he muttered. Briana pulled off to click her tongue at him.

“Such language, Your Majesty,” she scolded. Alistair moaned, leaning his head back and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Briana,” he gasped urgently and she laughed, swallowing him down again. One of Alistair’s hands found her hand and her stroked through it restlessly, careful not to pull as he let the pleasure take him. “Fuck! Bri-!” was all he managed by way of warning but Briana had enough to brace before he was coming in her mouth. She swallowed him down happily before pulling back, leaning her head on his thigh and smiling up at him. Alistair looked down at her still dazed and panting.

“Well?” she asked.

“I’ve decided I like this chair,” he gasped out and she laughed. Standing, she climbed up onto his lap, pressing close to him.

“It does make a rather nice cuddle spot,” she murmured, resting her head against his shoulder.

“It does not,” Alistair laughed, wrapping his arms around her and making no move to stand despite his words. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

“I have a vague idea,” Briana murmured. “But it’s always very nice to hear.”

“You’re beautiful,” Alistair murmured, kissing her neck gently. “Gorgeous. _Ravishing_.” Briana laughed swatting his shoulder gently.

“You’re ridiculous,” she teased laughing more when he huffed. They stayed like for a long moment savoring each other while Alistair got his breath back.

“I love you, Briana,” Alistair said softly, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“I love you too,” she murmured, leaning in to give him a quick kiss. “We’re going to be alright Alistair. We can do this, the two of us.” Alistair cradled her close giving a small nod.

“Of course we can,” he agreed. “Especially if this is how you intend to solve all my minor crises.” Briana laughed and swatted him again.

“Come on,” she said. “You need some sleep.” Alistair nodded, standing without letting her get up first, simply picking her up in his arms. She squeaked quietly dissolving into laughs as he carried her up the stairs towards their rooms.


End file.
